


All That Glitters Is Gold (Unfortunately)

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and the Signal (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Drowning, Duke Thomas Gets a Hug, Duke Thomas Needs a Hug, Gen, Good Older Sibling Cassandra Cain, Good Older Sibling Tim Drake, Good Sibling Cassandra Cain, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Hurt Duke Thomas, Hurt/Comfort, Lots and lots of panic, Metahuman Duke Thomas, Panic, Panic Attacks, Please Check Trigger Warnings, That tag should not be taken lightly, Whump, gold - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25985353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The world is gold and Duke can't breathe.He can'tbreathe.He was sitting in AP World History just a minute ago.Was it a minute ago? It seemed like a minute ago but it could have been hours because all he can focus on is that he can’t breathe. His lungs won’t fill and- and he’s trying he swears but hejust. can’t. breathe.And the gold—-----Duke's powers emerge.It doesn't go well.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Duke Thomas, Tim Drake & Duke Thomas
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	All That Glitters Is Gold (Unfortunately)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Hello, Hello, and welcome back to me hurting Duke Thomas! But it's physical this time! Kinda! 
> 
> TW: Graphic Descriptions of Asphyxiation/Drowning/Suffocation, Panic and Panic Attacks, Paralyzation, 
> 
> Things get dark fast. Please be wary going into this if you have any triggers (and the like) regarding asphyxiation/drowning/suffocation. Stay Safe! (If you think I should add anything to these warnings PLEASE let me know!!!) :D
> 
> The title is a Shakespeare reference :)

The world is gold and Duke can’t breathe. 

He can’t _breathe._

He was sitting in AP World History just a minute ago.

Was it a minute ago? It seemed like a minute ago but it could have been hours because all he can focus on is that he can’t breathe. His lungs won’t fill and- and he’s trying he swears but he _just. can’t. breathe._

And the gold—

The world is gold and it’s beautiful but it’s crawling up his arms and his legs are already encased and he knows that’s why they won’t move but he doesn’t know how he knows because the gold moves like water but it shouldn’t and when the gold stops he’ll be like a statue but he doesn’t want to be a statute he doesn’t want to but the gold _won’t stop_ —

Duke Thomas can’t breathe. 

_hecan’tbreathehecan’tbreathehecan’tbreathe_

The gold is at his neck and he feels it in his veins and he can feel his blood stop and it hurts so much please stop and his heart has stopped that’s not what he meant and the gold—

The gold is gone. 

_hecanbreathehecanbreathehecanbreathe_

The room is dark and cold, but he can breathe so everything is fine. He is fine. 

(If only someone told his heart that.)

(But at least it’s beating now.)

His eyes adjust and he can see familiar chairs and desks. Turning his head to the left and, yep, there’s a world map. It’s his AP World History classroom, which makes sense because he was here before the- before the gold. 

But.

He has world history right before lunch and the blinds in this room aren’t very good. They never manage to make the room this dark. This is nighttime levels of darkness. 

How long was he here? 

Duke goes to push aside a chair so he can get closer to the clock on the front wall, but his hand.

It passes through the chair. 

Thank God for Batman’s training ‘cause he might’ve passed out right then and there. 

(Can he pass out?)

He takes a step, which is good because at least Duke knows he won’t fall through the floor, but he doesn’t really take a step? It’s more like… gliding. Signal had seen Superman do something similar, the one times he met the hero. The older man would hover right above the floor. Clark told him it’s one of the few things that allow him to get close to sneaking up on Batman. But this feels different than he imagined. Instead of hovering above the floor, it feels like the floor isn’t even there. Which is both crazy and makes sense but he doesn’t know wh—

Check the time now, overthink the details later. 

Duke glides—is that even the right word?—through the desks and chairs towards the front of the room. 

Once he gets close enough to see the hands, a chill makes it’s way up his spin. 

The clock reads 4:39. Duke is hoping its 4:39 p.m., but his gut tells him he’s wrong. 

(Dick, Bruce, and Jason always say to trust his gut.) 

(It’s probably the only thing all three of them will agree on.)

If it’s 4:39 a.m., he’s been here for at least 17 hours. Did he fall asleep and everyone just decided to leave him? Even the teacher? Is this some weird prank all his classmates are in on?  
(He’ll be the first to admit he’s not very popular at school. Stuck up racist rich kids have obviously never met someone from the Narrows before.) 

And what about his family? Did they forget about him? He hasn’t even been adopted for a month yet, so that would make sense. Are they glad he’s gone? He’s pretty sure that Damian hates him and Tim thinks he’s annoying and while Steph is nice he’s pretty sure she’s being forced by Bruce to hang out with him and Cass probably wishes she could hang out with the others instead of babysitting her newest little brother God why did he ever thin—

There’s a voice. 

Duke glides out into the hall—right through the wall—and turns towards the sound. He shouts for help but his words (and knees) falter. 

Standing in the middle of the corridor is a figure mopping the floors. It looks like a man, maybe mid-to-late thirties, but he can’t tell because surrounding the figure are hundreds of gold flakes. 

_hecan’tbreathehecan’tbreathehecan’tbreathe_

But he can breathe this time. After taking a moment to steady his breath, Duke navigates over to it (him?). He hesitates right before the flakes because what if touching them triggers the ‘gold world’ again? Before he can decide what to do, a stray speck lands on his arm. 

Duke flinches back, and if he was standing he’s pretty sure he would have fallen over, but the flake doesn’t hurt and it doesn’t spread, either. It just sits on his arm, gold against brown. It feels kind of warm, but the warming-your-hands-by-the-fire kind of warm. It makes him miss the safety of the manor, and now all he wants to do is to go back home (home?). He doesn’t want to be in this dark, cold, frightening gold-stricken place. 

Duke wipes away the tears that have formed in his eyes and walks through the cloud. 

Once he gets a clear view of the man’s face, his body relaxes. The figure is Ryan Shaffer, one of the school’s janitors. He remembers meeting him on his first day of school. Alfred had dropped him off early so he would have plenty of time to get his locker and school schedule. (The elderly man is not fond of Duke’s tendency to be late. He really should ask Bruce for a proper alarm clock, he always manages to sleep through his phone’s alarm.) Having only been there once before when Bruce was signing all the necessary paperwork, he understandably got lost. Duke had been so relieved to find another person that he hadn’t seen the man’s shock when he said good morning and asked for directions. (Once again; stuck up rich kids. Duke has since made it his mission to say hello to the custodial staff, cafeteria workers, and security guards whenever he sees them.) They’ve talked maybe twice since then, and Mr. Shaffer has always been very kind to him. 

Which is why it’s so strange that he’s ignoring Duke. 

“Hello?” He says, waving his hands in front of the older man’s face. “Mr. Shaffer? Can you hear me? Hello?”

His mom always told him that it’s rude to poke people, and he’s tried to stick by that, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Duke reaches out and stares as his arm passes through the figure in front of him. 

For the fourth? (he’s stopped keeping track) time since he’s woken up here, Duke almost faints.

“Idiot idiot idiot! What did you think would happen?” He mutters. Duke turns around, hoping to find… something. He doesn’t even know what he was planning to do, but he’s saved from that decision by the reemergence of the voice. 

Whipping back around, Duke stares at the janitor, but the man doesn’t speak. Actually, he’s pretty sure the voice doesn’t even belong to him. It sounded younger and much more familiar than his voice would have been. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t figure out the speaker nor what was said. 

Duke resigns himself to waiting for them to speak again. 

As he slides down the wall towards the floor—he’s given up on understanding what he can and can’t touch—it dawns on him that he’s truly alone. 

Stuck in this creepy place with its creepy gold and its creepy voices. 

Alone. 

(He doesn’t want to be alone.)

Duke does a double-take, seeing something glittering out of the corner of his eye. His breath catches in his throat. 

_hecan’tbreathehecan’tbreathehecan’tbreathe_

Where that first flake landed now sits a whole patch of gold.  


In the seconds (seconds?) it takes his mind to get past its initial panic three more flakes have joined. 

Scrambling to the side, Duke frantically tries to brush them off with his other hand, but the gold just starts to cover it too, and now it’s moving up his arm when did it start moving like that again what did he do _wrong_. 

The gold is swarming him now and he can feel it spreading over his body and it hurts he swears it didn’t hurt this much the first time and the gold is in his veins and his body is no longer his _why is it no longer his_ —

—the gold is filling his lungs and this is so much worse than when they just wouldn’t move because it feels like drowning but he’s never drowned before so how does he know—

—the voice is back but it sounds frantic but he can’t tell because he can’t understand and it’s like they’re speaking a foreign language but he knows it’s English so why can’t he understand and now they’re louder they’re so loud and he just wants to cover his ears but he can’t because his arms are stuck and just please shut up— 

—his arms are heavy his hands are heavy his legs are heavy his head is heavy his lungs are heavy his bones are heavy everything is heavy and it feels like he’s thousands of yards underwater and the pressure is going to kill him he’s going to die _he’s going to die—_

—he wants to _needs to_ cough the gold out of his lungs but his throat is stuck and his mouth won’t open and he can’t let it out and the gold is crawling up his throat and he can’t even gag right—

— _he just wants it to stop._

And it did. 

Duke gasps and everything is bright and why is he laying on the floor— 

He can feel the floor. 

_He can feel the floor._

—and he sits up but he’s too fast and he’s crying and falling forward and—

Someone catches him. 

When he comes to, his face is buried in something soft. He opens his eyes and is greeted by a navy blue sweater and black hair. The person’s arms are wrapped all around him and he buries deeper into their chest because God it feels good to be hugging someone. 

(It feels so good to know he’s seen, to know he’s not there anymore.) 

He realizes another hand is rubbing his back. Someone’s murmuring, “It’s okay Duke, just breathe, you’re safe.” 

And it clicks. 

It’s the voice from before:

Tim. 

Duke looks over his shoulder at his older brother and gives him a small smile, and a much larger one spreads across Tim’s face. 

He leans back and yep, it’s Cass’s lap he’s curled up in. Her school sweater now has a giant wet patch, but as his older sister reaches out and wipes away the tears still falling down his face he can tell she isn’t mad. 

Looking around (and jeez, he would really like an aspirin), the three of them are sitting on the cold tile floor of his godforsaken AP World History classroom. His stomach drops for a moment, but he can read the clock in the noon sunlight: 11:21, about halfway through the period. 

“What happened?” 

Tim moves so he’s sitting criss-cross as Cass starts signing. 

“Apparently, you were asking to go to the nurse’s office for a headache when you fell out of your chair. They think it was a seizure. They called our classes, saying you weren’t moving or breathing.” She shifts, letting out an unsteady breath. The only thing that gets Cass rattled is her family or friends being in danger. Duke hates that he’s the cause this time. “When we got here, they thought it had ended. Your eyes had rolled back into your head and you were breathing again. The teachers took everyone out and Steph went with them to call Bruce. Told Tim to shout if we needed help.” 

Duke was nodding along, but… “What do you mean they thought it ended? Did it happen again? My dad always told me I’m an overachiever.” 

Cass snorted and Tim slapped her arm, rolling his eyes. “No, it didn’t happen again. Less than a minute after everyone else left you started moving and talking.”

“What?”

“Your arms and legs were twitching, kind of like you were walking?” Tim explains. “And when I asked if you were awake you yelled for help. Right into our faces mind you, so thanks for that. We were discussing what to do when you did this big full-body flinch thing. Then, you seemed like you were trying to get the attention of some dude, his name sounded familiar.” Tim snapped his fingers a few times. “Mr. Shaffer?” 

“Yeah- Yeah, he’s a janitor here. I think I was, uh, dreaming.” It had certainly had felt real, but a dream would explain, well. It would explain everything. However, his siblings certainly weren’t convinced. (He didn’t think he would be using Cass’s body language lessons against her when she was teaching him, but he also never thought he would suffocate twice on gol-)

No. Bad brain.

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” He asks. All the bats are very evidence focused; it would take at least some proof for them to disregard the logical explanation. 

“Duke, I don’t really know how to explain it, but your eyes were gl-” 

Tim’s cut off by the door slamming open. Bruce burst into the room with Steph and his teacher right behind him. He feels the burn of retuning tears as his guardian and older sister run to join their hug-pile.

(Duke didn’t notice the gold tint to his veins, and the others didn’t notice the gold flakes in his eyes.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and please! I love feedback! Please tell me if anything is ever offensive/incorrect.  
> Stay safe everyone!


End file.
